


Brunchinner

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco's father comes over for dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brunchinner

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.
> 
> Entry for the Draco/Luna minifest.

Draco’s stiff as a board and utterly awkward; Luna’s a sober two sheets to the wind.

The dynamic isn’t anything new. Luna opens the door before Draco gets there, despite him calling, “I’ll get it!” By the time he gets close enough to stop anything, her arms are wrapped firmly around his father. 

She chirps, “Welcome!” as though this is all perfectly normal. She pulls back, and Draco is simultaneously relieved and shocked to see amusement on his father’s face. He raises an eyebrow at Draco, who is forced to follow the precedent. Draco does his hug as lightly as possible; Lucius pulls him in and pats his back.

Then Draco ushers his father inside, closing the door behind him. Looking around, Lucius drawls, “A lovely home you have here.”

“Thank you,” Luna says dreamily, eyeing the strangely painted walls. “I’m very glad Draco moved in with me; it’s hard to find real estate with Dirigible plums.”

Lucius raises another eyebrow and quips, “Indeed.”

Draco tries not to die of embarrassment and guides his father over to the table, sadly right in the middle of the room. It’s an open layout, and every odd thing is on display, from the twisted staircase to the bust of Rowena Ravenclaw. There are three chairs arranged evenly around it, as misshapen and mismatched as everything else. Luna sings, “I’ll go get dinner,” and sweeps off up the stairs. 

Draco instantly opens his mouth to explain his choices. But nothing comes out, just like always. Lucius chuckles and says, in what Draco hopes isn’t mockery, “The décor really is... interesting.”

“It’s all her,” Draco instantly blurts. “I just put up with it.”

Lucius nods and surprisingly retorts, “A wise decision if you hope to make this last. You know what I always say with your mother; happy wife, happy life.” At Draco’s widening eyes, Lucius adds softly, leaning forward to prevent Luna from hearing, “Draco, you know I only want you to be happy, don’t you?”

Draco’s eyebrows knit together, and he nods with such overwhelming gratitude and relief he can’t even express it. So he settles on, “She really is a wonderful woman. Kind, and understanding, and she’s comforting and supportive and always there for me. And she is a pureblood, and she is beautiful.” 

Lucius nods again. After a minute, he sighs, “I must admit, I thought I might’ve ruined your chances for a happy relationship when I dragged you into the war. I’m glad you’ve found someone who can accept you despite the mistakes we’ve made.”

On instinct, Draco insists, “It’s not your fault.” And he puts his hand over his father’s. They don’t speak of this much. But Draco does know his father loves him; Malfoys have always put family first. And he’s relieved to know that still applies in light of his latest choices.

That’s when Luna appears down the stairs, levitating several plates of toast and a few jars of differently-flavoured jam. Different being the operative term. Draco tries not to blush too furiously as she places everything down, taking a seat. He should’ve never let her chose the menu. She is a good cook. Just... _different._

Lucius eyes a jar of lychee and taro jam warily, while Luna says, “We’re very glad to have you over, Draco’s dad.”

Lucius visibly tries to contain his smirk of amusement as he tells her, “You may call me Lucius.”

“Okay,” Luna says.

Lucius looks down as he spreads the mystery solution over his toast, clearly trying to stifle laughter. Draco’s hands are still against the table, mortification freezing him solid. Luna reaches for her own butter knife, placing her other hand on Draco’s as she does it.

Draco flips it over and intertwines their fingers, reminding himself it’s worth it.


End file.
